In a Different World
by Bad Mum
Summary: Five years after the war, two lonely people trying to forget the past and come to terms with the future find each other. For ReillyJade's "Unlikely Hermione pairing challenge" at the HPFC Forum.
1. I

**In a Different World**

_I_

It was the red hair that caught Dennis' eye at first. "Weasley red" he would have thought in the past, but those days were gone. He put the thought from him determinedly. Even five years ago, Ginny Weasley had been remote, totally out of his reach. Now, when they quite literally lived in different worlds, there was no point at all in thinking about her. He turned his eyes away from the little girl, sat down and unwrapped his burger and fries. Still, he knew that she was there, and when he had finished his meal and pulled out his sketchbook and pencil, it was the child, red hair plaited, face intent on dipping her fires _just so_, whose likeness he began to draw.

The girl's mother, sitting opposite her and glancing up to check on her now and again, was oblivious to his attention. Her own meal lay neglected in front of her as she frowned over the thick textbook she was reading, stopping now and again to make a note in the margin or to underline something. Intent on the child and on his picture, Dennis was unaware of her save as a maternal presence that might at any minute question his interest in her daughter.

It was the little girl who broke the spell that held each of the three of them in their own thoughts. Holding up a small bundle of fries in one hand, she spoke accusingly to her mother: "No more sauce!"

The woman shook her head, sighed and marked her place carefully in the book before looking over at the girl with a smile.

"All gone?" she asked. "Never mind. I'll get you some more."

She stood up slowly, and as she turned towards the counter, Dennis saw her face properly for the first time.

"Hermione?" he gasped to himself, and then louder, "Hermione!"

She jumped visibly and regarded him wide-eyed, the confusion in her eyes quickly followed by a spark of recognition. He saw her lips soundlessly forming his brother's name. Then she walked a few steps towards him hesitantly, and there was something else in her eyes now, something that looked very much like fear.

"Dennis?" she asked, and her voice was shaking. She definitely looked afraid now. "What are you doing here? I thought…" She swallowed hard. "I thought we were safe here."

Behind her, the child's voice rose in irritation: "Mummy! I want some more sauce!"

Hermione jumped, and swung round to face the child.

"Put your coat on, Amanda," she ordered sharply. "We have to go."

The little girl sent up a wail of protest, and Dennis took a step forward, his hands outstretched.

"No, wait!" he said. "It's okay. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go if you want. I was just surprised to see you. Here, I mean. It's been so long since I saw anyone from…" He cut his sentence short at the shake of Hermione's head and the frantic glance she threw towards her daughter.

Dennis sighed. It would have been so nice to talk to her. She would understand; and, Lord knew, there was no one else who did. But clearly she did not want to talk to him – or to anyone else from a past that she had apparently cut herself off from. He knew when he was beaten.

"It was lovely to see you, Hermione," he said quietly. "Let Amanda finish her lunch." He gathered up his sketchbook and his bag, turned and walked out of the restaurant without looking back.

But he knew that she was watching him as he left.


	2. II

_II_

It would have been so nice to talk to her. He had made his decision, and he knew it was the right one, but that did not make it any easier. To talk to someone who did not just sympathise, but who actually understood would have been wonderful.

What was she doing here in this world that she no longer belonged to? Of all people, why was she, Hermione Granger, one of the Golden Trio, living in the Muggle world? And from her reaction to seeing him, living here with no intention of returning to the magical world or of teaching her daughter about it.

What on earth had happened to her?

Dennis tried to forget their meeting. He had his reasons for living as a Muggle; no doubt she did too. It was none of his business.

But the image of her in that Muggle fast food restaurant kept returning to him. As did the picture of the little girl with red hair. Weasley red? It had to be. Ron and Hermione had been together at the end of the war. Surely the little girl was Ron's daughter?

It was none of his business. He would probably never see them again. He had his own life to get on with.

* * *

The university library was bigger than any library he had used before, and he had never been good with libraries. Nor was he good with asking for help – but on this occasion he had to. He approached the desk diffidently.

"Um – excuse me?" he asked, and the woman behind the desk, who had been tapping away at her computer, looked up with an automatic smile.

A smile that faded as she saw his face.

"Dennis?" she gasped; and he had not been wrong before, there was definitely fear in her eyes. But she composed herself quickly, and put on what was obviously her professional manner.

"How can I help?" she asked in clipped tones, daring him to say anything about their previous acquaintance.

Dennis could take a hint as well as anyone. He stuttered out his question about the book he was looking for, and she found it for him in less than three minutes. But in the time it took for her to find it on the computer, and then on the shelves, she did not look at him at all.

What on earth had happened to her?

And could Dennis really let it lie and pretend they did not know each other?

That night, his essay written, he lay in bed, listening to the noise of his flatmates laughing in the kitchen below, and decided that no, he could not. She was part of the world he had renounced. More, she was clearly determined to put that world and everyone in it behind her. But he, Dennis, could not let it lie. He had his reasons for living as he did, and he had times when he thought he had made the wrong choice. What if she had too? He looked at the sketch of her daughter, pinned on the corkboard over his bed. That child had a magical heritage. Did Hermione have the right to deny it to her?

A tiny part of his mind told him that he was using the child as a justification for doing what he wanted for his own reasons. Dennis knew that was true, but he suppressed the thought.

He was going to talk to Hermione, and to talk to her about their shared past if it killed him.

On that he was determined.


	3. III

_III_

He went home for the weekend, as was expected of him. Although, if he were entirely honest with himself, he could not say whether the expectation came from himself or from his parents. He had been close to them as a child, but magic and Colin's death had put a gulf between them that he could not breech. At least he was trying.

His mum smiled as he came in on Friday evening, put his washing in the machine without complaint, and served his favourite pie and mash for tea. His father, always a quiet man and now more or less silent, grunted something that might have been a greeting, and disappeared off down the pub as soon as the meal was finished.

Dennis' mother kept up a flow of questions as the two of them did the dishes together, her washing, him drying and putting away. How was his course? What were his flatmates like? Was he eating properly? Had he made any friends? What about the girls there?

Dennis tried to answer honestly, the truth being that he had been so focused on getting onto the design course that now he was there the whole thing seemed unreal. His flatmates seemed nice enough, but he had really made no effort to get to know them. Their talk of football, cars, TV and girls seemed foreign to him, even after five years living as a Muggle. It had been the same at school, at college and in the jobs he had had between college and uni. He could not help but feel different, and that made him seem aloof, which made the problem worse. He wondered if Colin would have had the same problems readjusting to Muggle life if their positions had been reversed. Well, he would never know.

"What about the girls?" His mother's last question hung in the air between them, a world of longing in it that she probably did not realise was there. She would love to be a nana.

"Have a heart, Mum! I've only been there three weeks!"

She laughed shamefacedly. "Oh, I know, love, I know. But I want you to be happy. It would be so nice if you met a nice girl."

Dennis put down his tea towel and came over and hugged her.

"I am happy, Mum," he said firmly. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine."

Sometimes he could even believe that that was true.


	4. IV

_IV_

Of course he wasn't fine: he was living in a world that no longer felt like his own. Colin's death had exiled him from the magical world, and the loss of that world hurt nearly as badly as the loss of his brother. And the one person who might even begin to understand had made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with him.

It was a fortnight before he saw Hermione again. She never seemed to be in the campus library when he went in – though once a door marked "Staff only" banged suspiciously quickly after he entered, leaving him with an impression of curly hair tied back and a scarf of scarlet and gold like his own. Nor did he see her around the university at all. It was exasperating.

Then, as he was on his way home for the weekend, he bumped into her. Quite literally. He was walking fast, his bag on his back, conscious that he was cutting it fine to catch the coach he wanted, and wishing that for once he could cheat on his bargain with himself and Apparate. Hermione was walking more slowly, but with a book open in her hands, so that she did not see him until he cannoned into her, sending the book flying.

"Look where you're going, idiot!" she snapped, kneeling down to retrieve her book. Then she looked up and realised who he was, and her face paled.

Dennis knew he had only a moment: she looked as if she might run at any second. He grabbed her arm and went straight to the point.

"Hermione, why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

She pulled away, shaking her head and looking both furious and upset.

"Please Dennis!" she pleaded. "Leave me alone. There's nothing to say. What is there to say?"

"Plenty," he said firmly. Then he lowered his voice, seeing that she was close to tears, whether of anger or of something else he could not tell. "Please Hermione. Half an hour, that's all. If after that you never want to see me again I'll respect that. But I have to talk to you."

She glared at him. "Why?" she demanded.

Dennis shook his head. "Not here. Half an hour. Please."

She sighed and some of the fight seemed to go out of her. "Okay. Come on then."

They found a corner in the cafe in the union building, and Dennis went to the counter and bought them both a coffee. Hermione nodded to his backpack as he sat down.

"You'll miss your train," she observed.

"Coach," he said with a shrug. "I'll get the later one."

Hermione smiled. "Girlfriend back at home?" she asked knowingly.

Dennis shook his head. "No. Just Mum and Dad. I go home most weekends." He swallowed. "It seems the least I can do."

Hermione looked down at her coffee cup, her half-teasing smile gone. Dennis had been right – she did understand.

"It must be hard for them," she said. "Do they even understand why Colin died?"

Dennis felt his throat tighten at the mention of his brother. He shrugged again.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've tried to explain, but…" He took a gulp of his coffee, feeling Hermione's sympathetic eyes on him and wishing she would look away. Perhaps this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"Explaining is hard," Hermione said quietly. "They might know about the magical world, but they can't really understand it. They've never been part of it."

Dennis nodded, some of his composure restored. "That's just it. However they try, they can only see it as something that took the pair of us away from them when we were just kids." He paused, looking down at his own cup. "And then something that took Colin forever." He looked up and met Hermione's eyes. "That's why I can't go back. I couldn't do that to them. I'm all they've got now."

"Mmm." There was silence between them for a few minutes, but it was the silence of understanding. Dennis broke it eventually.

"What about you?" he asked. "Me coming back here makes sense, but you? One of the saviours of the wizarding world? Why are you here?"

Hermione sighed, avoiding his eyes. "It's complicated," she said eventually. "Mum and Dad of course, but not just…" Her voice trailed off.

"Amanda?" Dennis asked quietly, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Does Ron know about her?" Dennis asked.

For a moment, she stared at him, confused, almost as if she did not recognise him or understand the question. Then her face flooded with colour.

"Ron? Oh well…" She was gathering her books together, looking at her watch, doing anything except meet Dennis' eyes.

"I-I have to go," she stuttered. "And you have a coach to catch."

"Hermione wait!" Dennis put out a hand and took her arm, but she shook him off.

"I said it was complicated," she said fiercely. "And you've had your half an hour, and more. Goodbye Dennis."

And before Dennis could say anything more, she was gone.


End file.
